Marriage For Sale

Marriage For Sale
CAROL DEVINE

The Bridal Bid:Highest Bidder Wins the Bride!"I BOUGHT A WIFE?"Montana rancher Linc Monroe knew that the backwater society called "The Community" practiced outdated customs, but he never expected them to put a 28-eight-year-old virgin on the auction block!So the honorable cowboy had no choice but to buy – and wed – alluring Rachel Johnson in order to set her free. And then the reluctant groom had to educate his bride about city ways before she could live on her own. Trouble was, the spirited beauty took to ranching life as if she were born to it, and soon Linc's captivating pupil began teaching him a few lessons about matters of the heart.

Rachel Watched Her Buyer Come Forward To Claim Her.

She had noticed his tall, imposing form during the livestock sale. Dressed in a fringed Western-cut cowhide coat and crisp black felt cowboy hat, he wasn’t the only rancher to visit the auction today. Yet he stood out from the others like a rogue stallion, content to stay aloof and alone.

Rugged and rangy, he moved toward her the way a skilled cowboy would move, which heartened her. Rachel resisted the urge to smooth back her hair or fuss with her dress. She was through conforming to the needs and desires of others.

When he introduced himself and lifted his hat, his flint-green eyes remained cold and he didn’t smile. “Hello, Rachel. I’m Lincoln Monroe. Are you ready? The sooner we get out of here, the better.”

“But we cannot leave yet.”

“Why not?”

“I thought Granny Isaacs explained our customs to you during the auction. You and I must be married first.”

Dear Reader,

Spring is in the air…and so is romance. Especially at Silhouette, where we’re celebrating our 20

anniversary throughout 2000! And Silhouette Desire promises you six powerful, passionate, provocative love stories every month.

Fabulous Anne McAllister offers an irresistible MAN OF THE MONTH with A Cowboy’s Secret. A rugged cowboy fears his darkest secret will separate him from the beauty he loves.

Bestselling author Leanne Banks continues her exciting miniseries LONE STAR FAMILIES: THE LOGANS with a sexy bachelor doctor in The Doctor Wore Spurs. In A Whole Lot of Love, Justine Davis tells the emotional story of a full-figured woman feeling worthy of love for the first time.

Kathryn Jensen returns to Desire with another wonderful fairy-tale romance, The Earl Takes a Bride. THE BABY BANK, a brand-new theme promotion in Desire in which love is found through sperm bank babies, debuts with The Pregnant Virgin by Anne Eames. And be sure to enjoy another BRIDAL BID story, which continues with Carol Devine’s Marriage for Sale, in which the hero “buys” the heroine at auction.

We hope you plan to usher in the spring season with all six of these supersensual romances, only from Silhouette Desire!

Enjoy!

Joan Marlow Golan

Senior Editor, Silhouette Desire

Marriage for Sale

Carol Devine

www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)

To Susie

CAROL DEVINE

lives in Colorado with her husband and three sons, including identical twins. When she’s not playing pickup games of basketball and hunting for lost Reebok footwear, she’s holed up in her office, dreaming of romantic heroes.

Her writing has won numerous awards, including the Romance Writers of America’s 1992 Golden Heart for Short Contemporary Series Romance. She has also served as president of Rocky Mountain Fiction Writers.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

One

“Next up for bid is Miss Rachel Johnson, as fine a woman as you folks will ever see,” bellowed the auctioneer. His resonant voice boomed out over the people milling around the barnyard. Hooking his thumbs under his suspenders, which curved around his ample middle, the auctioneer rocked back on his heels, sweeping the audience with his affable gaze. “At eight and twenty years of age, Miss Rachel is in her prime, and of good, hardworking Johnson stock. Do I hear a bid? The startin’ price is one hundred dollars!”

Thinking he must have misheard, Lincoln Monroe checked the rough-hewn wooden platform these people used as an auction block. The sheer volume of sights, sounds and smells made it difficult for him to see and hear what was going on. A sea of buyers and sellers flowed in uneven waves back and forth across the yard, heads covered by calico bonnets and widebrimmed straw hats. Friends stood gossiping, families strolled holding hands, and children ran laughing and chasing each other. Smells of grilling sausages, roasted corn and fresh-baked pies assaulted Linc’s senses, as well. He took his latest purchase, a spirited three-year-old Appaloosa filly, into the wooden corral, shouldered his way past a half dozen horse-drawn wagons and moved closer to the auction block.

Unbelievably, a young woman was standing there, dressed in the same old-fashioned gowns as the other women. Caught in at the waist by an unbleached-muslin apron, the long, pale-pink gown buttoned at her neck and brushed the ankles of her black-stockinged legs. Sensible, brown-leather laced boots covered her feet.

Unlike the other women, however, whose heads were covered by bonnets, their hair pinned in neat coils at the back of the neck, this woman had slipped off her bonnet, letting it hang down her back to reveal her near-white, corn silk hair—the straight type that tended to escape its bounds. She had braided hers into many strands and wrapped them like a halo around her head.

She stood up straight on the block, as tall as her short stature allowed, her covered arms hanging loosely at her sides. Wispy blond tendrils accented her heart-shaped face and pointed chin. The honey tint to her complexion, scrubbed free of makeup, was shades darker than the gold of her hair, making her turquoise-colored eyes stand out in startling contrast.

She pursed her lips in serious contemplation as she looked out over the crowd from her high vantage point. She looked nowhere near twenty-eight, but unmistakable composure and maturity kept her chin high and her shoulders thrown back. The ramrod-straight posture pulled her bodice across her breasts—generously rounded breasts that put lust in men’s hearts, his included. It made the mystery of why she was being auctioned off like this all the more appalling.

“Come on, folks,” called the auctioneer, who tipped his straw hat back on his balding head. “You don’t want to hurt Miss Rachel’s feelings, do you? When am I going to hear that bid for one hundred dollars? Turn around, honey, and show the folks out there what you have to offer.”

The sight of her obediently turning in place chilled Linc. So did the hoots and whistles from the onlookers. Ignoring the catcalls, the woman named Rachel fixed her unblinking turquoise gaze on some faraway point, determined to see her sale through, Linc thought. Her sale into slavery.

Linc wondered which disgusted him more—that a human being was being auctioned off like a piece of meat or that she was actually going along with it. Considering her defiant stance, he’d bet his last world-champion rodeo title that the woman named Rachel didn’t have a choice.

Loath as he was to interfere in other people’s business, he signaled the auctioneer of his bid in the same way he had all morning, with a tug on the brim of his black Stetson. The bidding didn’t pick up much, however, remaining slow, uninterested. Linc wondered about that, too. Even in an insulated environment like this, women like Rachel would be easy to take advantage of, if a man were so inclined.

To his left, a grizzled, gray-bearded man raised his meaty red hand in an obvious bid. A couple of women alongside grinned and elbowed each other, whispering behind their hands. Laughter rippled around them. Linc felt every muscle in his body tense. What was wrong with these people? If he had his hunting rifle, he would have fired into the air and put a stop to this. Poker-faced, he tugged the brim of his Stetson instead.

Up till now, he had cultivated a certain amount of respect for the members of The Community, as they called themselves. Like the Amish or Northern Montana’s Hutterites, members of The Community prided themselves on living an old-fashioned and reverential life, dedicated to caring for the land that supported them.